


Colorful Man

by Two_Guns_And_A_Knife



Category: Stephanie Plum - Janet Evanovich
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 13,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Two_Guns_And_A_Knife/pseuds/Two_Guns_And_A_Knife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of mini stories about unexpected victims and heroes, love, joy, pain, hopes, dreams, and regrets. Babe HEA. Cupcakes, beware. Theme Song: What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. THE HAIRY EAGLE

**Author's Note:**

> Theme song: What Have I Done To Deserve This? by Pet Shop Boys

**Born To Be Free**

Who am I? What am I? Is there a meaning to my life? What's purpose of my existence? Am I a he? Am I a she? Or am I an it? Every day. every night, it's always the same. Nothing ever changes. I feel so trapped here. I can't see. I can't breathe. I have no idea why I'm here. Was I a joke? Was I a mistake? Was I an accident? Was I a dare? I want to howl. I want to yell. I want to screech. I keep asking myself all kinds of questions. I never ever get an answer. My life is a torture. My life is a nightmare. My life is an everlasting question mark, a meaningless blankness. I want to fly but I can't even blink. I want to sigh but I can't even utter a sound. I dream of freedom. I long for freedom. I'm forever a prisoner. What have I done to deserve this? I see things I don't want to see. I hear things. I want to look up toward the sky and ask, "WHY ME?" I can't stop doubting everything, Anything.

Right now I don't even know if I am an eagle, a vulture, seagull, or a penguin. I'm but a stupid tattoo with cheap faded ink. All these chest hairs make me want to scream.

God. I hate Joe Morelli.

**~END OF TATT ONE: THE HAIRY EAGLE~**


	2. THE CHRYSTAL TEARS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Here Comes The Rain Again by Eurythmics

 

**Tequila Sunrise**

We killed for love. We killed for loyalty, and for revenge. We know no regret. We are what we are. We are in love with a beautiful man. He will never be ours. But that's OK. We love him the way he is. We never want him to change. We have walked through fire. We have walked through tears. We have walked through rain. Sometimes we still feel the pain. But we keep our silence and stand our ground. We dream when Hector dreams. We smile when Hector smiles. We have this life to live. We try the best we can. We breathe in the air and quietly follow the beautiful man. We are fierce. We are ferocious. We are loyal. We are brave. We are his brothers in black. We never whisper his name in our dream. We will love him till our life ends.

Burning car. Curious crowd. Sirens. Firemen. Busy cops. We look into the eyes of the upset wild-haired girl. We twitch the corner of our lips at that upset hairy man. A farce doomed by Fate. A match made by mistake. Our heart shakes a little when the beautiful man tucks her curl back behind her ear and walks away. This time, he didn't even say, "Babe". He has a life of his own. He respects the choice she made. She has to recognize her own mistake. That's the only way. We follow his steps. We walk away without a backward glance. Our soul sighs. Our heart is a total blank. We stop. We turn around. We stare at Stephanie Plum. Till she turns her head away.

We don't like her tears.

 

**~END OF TATT TWO: THE **CHRYSTAL**  TEARS~**


	3. THE FLAMING SKULL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: When Doves Cry By Prince

**Circle In The Sand**

I stare into the darkness as he peacefully sleeps. I see through everything. I never blink. He's tall. He's strong. He's soft. He's weak. I have seen his many faces. He's a war hero. He's not exactly ordinary. He has medals. He's a little broken. He sometimes cries silently within. In some ways you can say he's a tortured man. I came into his life 2 days after he learned of his mother's death. He didn't wince. He didn't cry. He couldn't speak German. He just lay there letting the tattoo artist do her job. He never talks about his mother or her new husband. He never blames her. He doesn't plan to meet his half siblings. He is an independent man. He likes his job. He knows how to hide his scars. He knows how to bury memories.

He whispers something in his sleep. The new waitress at Shorty's smiled at him again last night. She looks cute. She looks tough. She looks a little like his Mom. He probably won't ask her out. He hasn't dated for ages. Everything inside his 4th-floor one-bedroom apartment is tiny and neat. He's a brave man. He knows his limits. His high school sweetheart is married to someone else. His father is still a sad old drunkard. He sometimes feels lonely. He accepts life as what it is. He still has dreams. And he dreams big. I smile a little and sing him a lullaby.

That's why I love him.

**~END OF TATT THREE: THE FLAMING SKULL~**


	4. THE RED RED ROSE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Man In The Rainby Mike Oldfield

********Moonlight Shadow** ** **  
**

****

The scar left by the gunshot wound is barely visible. The slash caused by the hunting knife looks ugly and vicious. I grow amid the ashes of his memories. I guard his back. I make sure he keeps moving forward. I make sure he won't look behind. It's all buried in the past. There's nothing left. I listen to his heart. I whisper to his soul. I bow my head to no one. I stand tall and strong. I know what I am worth. I, am beautiful. I, too, am a dare devil. Chase and being chased. Shoot and being shot at. Love and being betrayed. Keep calm. Remain loyal. No remorse. No regret. Wake up at the first ray. Kiss the sleeping woman on her soft ripe lips. "Hasta la vista, baby." Turn a new page. Drive away. Born to love. Hate no one. Live. And let live. Show no mercy to the scumbags that cross the path.

He finishes his workout routine in the gym. Drops of sweat roll down his spine. I can taste their saltiness. I dance in tune with the fluid movement of his back muscles. He takes off his t-shirt and heads for the shower. He stops to talk and laugh with his co-workers and friends. No one asks about the long single stem rose tattooed on his back. Ah, the ever so charming Mr. L. Santos. His love stories are no top secret. He towels himself dry and puts on his clothes. He has another busy day ahead of him. I still remember the day he had his heart broken by a careless witch. He was a little sad. He was a little drunk. He kept flirting with all the giggling girls. It's the day I was born. He still loves her deep down within. And that day, he slept alone.

**~END OF TATT FOUR: THE RED RED ROSE~**


	5. THE HEART SHAPED-TATTOO STICKER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme Song: Starry Starry Night by Don McLean

********Miss American Pie** ** **  
**

****

"Pick me. Pick me. Pick me." I squeeze my eyes shut and keep on praying amid all the laughter, moans, and noises. I know nothing ever lasts and sometimes life is cheap. Still I long for a moment of beauty. Still I am willing to die for a glimpse of eternity. I spend every minute of my days waiting for the perfect man. I spend every second of my nights dreaming about him. Will he be tall? Will he be strong? Will he be cute? Will he be gentle? Will he come with a lot of friends? Will he enjoy being alone? Does he like beer? Does he drink tea? Will I have enough time to know every single little thing about him? Will I cry when it's time for us to part?Will he like me? Will he miss me? Will he go find someone else when I am gone? Someone totally different from me? Someone just like me? Will that someone get to know all about him? Will that someone make him happy? Will that someone make him smile in his dream?

I let out a sigh and feel a little lonely. I am good at waiting. I can't wait for my life to begin. I am not afraid of the end. Old soldiers never die. They just fade away. I will fade away with a smile on my face(I just hope I still have a face when the time comes). A shiver runs through me suddenly. I feel a strange tingling feeling. I look up and see him. Yes! That's him! The perfect man in all my dreams! "Pick me. Pick me. Pick me." I stare at him and keep on whispering. My voice is a little shaky. My heart becomes a bit unsteady. "Pick me. Pick me. Pick me." Don't walk away. Don't turn from me. I am not perfect, but I will do all I can. I will try my best. Pick me. Pick me. Pick me. Please.

"How much is this?" He points at me and I almost die. I have never be so happy in my life. I want to sing. I want to cry. I don't know how much time has passed. My mind goes blank the moment he and I become one. He stands in front of the mirror and turns to look at his long muscular arm. I smile brightly with pride as I look at myself for the ever first time. I am a bright red heart that says "I love you, Mom" in beautiful elegant italic letters. He looks at me some more and smiles like a child. His happiness brings tears to my eyes.

"Nice tatt, Hal." The tattoo shop owner pats him on the back and asks. "Why not get a real one? I can give you a discount."

" It's my April's Fool day prank." Hal shyly smiles. "My Mom hates tatts. She kicked my Dad out when he got drunk on her birthday and came home with one."

I can't help rolling my eyes. Men. They never learn.

**~END OF TATT FIVE: THE HEART SHAPED-TATTOO STICKER~**


	6. THE TATTOOED HEART

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Wishing(If I Had A Photograph Of You) by A Flock Of Seagulls

**The Afghan Girl**

He likes his job. He likes his friends. He punches people in the face when they make fun of his name. Whitney is dead, motherfuckers, show some respect. He smells the smoke and wants to sigh. Another day. Another car. Another fight with that stubborn hairy cop. Will you ever be smart, Miss Stephanie Plum? He keeps his thoughts to himself and gives her a ride. Ranger's car is already there when they turn into her parking lot. There's no reason in love. Once you care too much, you got stuck. He shakes his head as he drives away.

He still remembers her eyes. He still remembers her smile. Bright brown eyes. Shy little smile. She was young, but maybe a little older than his baby sister. He couldn't really tell. He couldn't be sure. People here looked older than they actually are, he'd been told. Life was tough. War was cruel. They looked tired. They died young. He was an outsiders. He was surrounded by complete strangers. He couldn't even pronounce the name of this tiny village. He was drowned in the unfamiliar language. He felt unsafe. He felt nervous. He was on the enemy's turf. Chickens. Goats. Dogs. Blank-faced humans. Mountains. Sky. Thin air. He missed New York. He missed his Mom. He missed his cat. Jesus Christ. He missed his elder brother's lazy dog. And the girl looked him in the eyes and smiled. And he almost cried.

The Soviet soldiers were long gone. The Taliban was everywhere. Her life wouldn't be easy, he was afraid. He was here to kill, to destroy, to save, to restore. In the name of God knows what. Peace? World order? Freedom? Dignity? Human rights? He couldn't stop having doubts. He tried not to overthink. He did all his best. He stayed alert. Sometimes he felt helpless. He looked hard but couldn't find hope. Death. Fear. Pain. Bullets. Bombs. No one was safe in this barren land. He would be home soon. But the smiling girl had nowhere to go. She had no other choice. He looked at her and tried to smile. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. Her smile was more splendid than a thousand suns and moons and stars. The cart rattled away. She disappeared from his view. He swallowed his tears. He prayed for peace to come. He wished her all the happiness in this world. He moved on. He went home. But he couldn't let go.

He still can't.

**~END OF TATT SIX: THE TATTOOED HEART~**


	7. THE BULLET WOUND

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Bad Romance by Lady Gaga

**Don't Call My Name, Don't Call My Name, Alejandro  
**

_Laugh again, I dare you._  He says silently with his bright almost black eyes. One by one the gang of tall muscular men turn their heads and look away. One of them fakes a cough; one of them blushes and blinks. He walks toward the waiting black SUV with an elegance, a grace, and an ease. He's strong but of slender build. His raven hair is silky smooth. His lips are beautifully shaped. His eyelashes are extraordinarily long and dense. Red suits him. He's a Brooklyn native. He's three-fourths Latino and one-fourth Chinese. He loves cute cats and dogs. He loves the Yankees. He's a great cook. No one has the guts to tell him he looks stunningly sexy in that fake Chanel dress and those high heel boots. He knows 13 ways to kill a man with his slender bare hands. He knows Kung-Fu.

He doesn't say a word on the ride to the bar. He has read the file. He has been wired. He has confidence in himself. He knows he can get the job done. He still remembers the scariest moment in his life. Goosebumps stood up on his skin when he looked into those blank emotionless eyes on the other side of the glass. He was hypnotized by the mad man's eyes. And before he knew it he got shot in his arm and lost a lot of blood. He still feels somewhat ashamed of himself, he admits. He can't believe he was spooked by the resemblance between Ranger and Edward Scrog. They actually don't look that much alike if you calm down and look again. He hates being shot. He wanted to cover the scar with a tattoo, but he couldn't decide what design he wanted, and his girlfriend purrs every time she sees the scar. He's happy if she's happy. Case closed.

The SUV pulls to a stop. He gets out and gets in the bar. People part in front of him like the Red Sea. He ignores all the hushed whispers and curious glances, sits down, and crosses his legs. Someone orders him a drink. He toys with the little umbrella while looking into the man's hungry eyes. He smiles. He stands up. He walks toward the the dim empty hallway that leads to the bathroom. He turns around to face the tall beefy man. He crooks his finger. His smile deepens. He pushes the back door open and lets his partners in. Ah, it's just another day in his life. He rolls his eyes at his snickering pals and decides to take an extra long hot shower tonight.

The RangeMan high bond skip never knew what hit him.

**END OF TATT SEVEN: THE BULLET WOUND~**


	8. NAME OF A WOMAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Judas by Lady Gaga

**I'm Not Your Babe, I'm Not Your Babe, Fernando**

Her eyes lighten up when she sees him. The corners of her lips curl upward. She leans in closer to the man next to her. The diamond ring around her finger flashes in the light. She whispers something in the man's ear. Together they turn to smile at him. He doesn't smile back. He gives them a small nod. He's aware of people looking at him, waiting for his reaction. He's not here to make a scene. He's here to attend his best friend's wedding. He takes another sip of his champagne. She looks good, he has to admit. Marriage suits her. He's glad she's happy. He's glad she found the perfect man. He doesn't blame her for breaking up their engagement and marrying another man. She made the right decision. They are, as a matter of fact, too different. They loved each other, but they never wanted the same things. He can understand why she didn't(or rather couldn't) wait for him. He was far far away in another country. And she was lonely.

"Brett, my man! Come over here" The half-drunk groom bellows from the other side of the reception hall. "I want you to meet somebody!"

He puts down the glass and stands up. This is the first time he comes back to his small home town since his discharge from the Army. All his families are here. Most of his childhood friends chose to stay or come back here. Most of them have settled down and started their own families. He's glad they are all happy. He's glad they have beautiful wives, smart pets, and and cute kids. Everyone says he looks just the same, but he knows he has changed. He has changed a lot. He started changing the day he made up his mind and picked a very different path. He knew he might lose her if he went away. But he had to take the chance. He had to see the world. He had to experience life and death. With, or without her. He knew he was being selfish. But he couldn't help it. He felt so guilty when he saw her tears. He has to be who he really is. Whatever the cost.

He shakes hands with new acquaintances. He dances and dances again with the bride's still single elder sister. He laughs at old friends' jokes and drinks champagne. No one knows he had her name tattooed on his arm one night when he was drunk. And sometimes, just sometimes, he still dreams of her beautiful smile.

****~END OF TATT EIGHT:** NAME OF A WOMAN~**


	9. NAME OF ANOTHER WOMAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Easy Lover by Phil Collins

**It's A Sin**

 

 

She narrows her eyes at me and thins her lips. I smile nervously back at her and cringe in fear. It wasn't my fault but somehow I am the one to take the blame. Geez. Why me? Why didn't his stupid friends stop him and tell him it was a stupid idea? Why didn't someone tell him love is a lie and nothing ever lasts? Oh, the woe. Oh, the shame. Oh God, I feel so trapped. The never-ending circle of self-doubt and resentment. The everlasting pain. Why me, Lord? Why me? I am but an innocent existence, an elegant form of art. I do no evil. I tell no lie. I am but a token of long-forsaken love. I am but a souvenir from Ram's sad, meaningless past. I am but a beautiful artistic tattoo on Ram's bare muscular chest. I am but a name inked across Ram's scarred throbbing heart. I can bare remember Rebecca's face. I have long forgotten Rebecca's voice, Rebecca's eyes, Rebecca's smile, and the touch of Rebecca's lips. Ram may be stupid but he's a good and lonely man.

 

 

I pray Ginny can understand...

  
**~END OF TATT NINE:** **NAME OF ANOTHER WOMAN~**  



	10. CAT SCRATCH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Que Sera, Sera by Doris Day

**Crying in the Rain**

He doesn't know why he loves cats this much.

Some people think he's a dog person. Some people think he keeps large vicious dogs like pit bulls and Rottweilers. Some people believe he feeds his dogs raw meat and trains them to kill. He never bothers to explain. Nope, he doesn't have much patience, and he doesn't talk much. He likes dogs fine. But he loves cats. And he almost rolled his eyes when Lula wanted him to choose between her and his cats. Lula is a grown woman. Lula has seen and been through a lot. Lula has a car, a job, a place to live and money in the bank. His cats have no one else. Women. He lets out a small silent sigh and gets out of the car.

He squats down in the rain and reaches out a careful hand. He hears the warning hiss. He hears the tiny meows. He doesn't flinch when the cat's claws pierce his skin and draw blood. Gently and firmly he grasps hold of the cat, wraps her in his jacket, and hands her to Hal. He then gets down on one knee, reaches deeper into the corner, and gets the kittens out one by one. Mission accomplished. He smiles as the babies reunite with their mom inside the dry, padded carrier. It's just another day in his life and his hand is hurting. But he feels very good and suddenly has hope for this sad mad world again.

His Grandma used to tell him he has a big heart.

**~END OF TATT TEN: CAT SCRATCH~**


	11. A CHILD'S FACE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: My Way by Frank Sinatra

**Desert Moon**

With one smooth movement he slams the mean-looking man on the ground and cuffs the screaming man's meaty hands behind his back. He gives Miss Plum a small nod when she finally catches her breath and gratefully says, "Thanks." It's just another Monday. He's in an OK mood. He likes Miss Plum. They all do. She's cute and fun to be with. Though he sometimes thinks she's not exactly a smart woman.

He fought hard for the custody of his only child but lost anyway. His ex-wife moved to another state and soon married again to a businessman. He thinks of his child every day. He thinks of her smile and her giggles. He wonders if she likes all the Christmas and birthday presents he sent. He wonders if she still remembers his face. He works hard. He keeps fit. He tries not to think of the good old days. He tries not to hate his ex. Sometimes he dates. Sometimes he has quick uncommitted sex. Sometimes he wakes up and resents himself. He misses his only child, his precious daughter, his beautiful princess, his little girl. That's the reason why he had her face tattooed on his shoulder blade on her 7th birthday. She will be 10 this year. Sometimes he wonders if life would be easier if he was more like Ranger. Cool. Calm. Composed. No strings attached. Keep your head high while walking down your chosen path. But still everyone knows Ranger cares.

Maybe too much. About this blue-eyed confused woman. His annoyance rises as he turns his head and watches the half-frowning, half-smirking hairy cop come toward them. Same shit. Different day. Stephanie Plum is going back to Joe Morelli again. After Ranger has done everything to save her ass. AGAIN. Sometimes he hopes Ranger could just walk away. Sometimes he hopes he could just forget about his daughter and start living again. Nope. Not gonna happen. Not a chance. He lets out a silent sigh and raises his brows as Stephanie's slightly shaky voice breaks the uncomfortable silence.

"Can you give me a ride back to RangeMan, Vince?"

His smile deepens as he sees the stunned look on Joe Morelli's face. The Bombshell Bounty Hunter has just brightened his day.

**~END OF TATT ELEVEN: A CHILD'S FACE~**


	12. AN OLD CHINESE SAYING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Little Red Corvette by Prince

**Raspberry Beret**

"Thank you." The little old lady smiles at him as he helps her into his car. Around them people gape and gawk, but he doesn't give a damn.

Yeah, he knows she's a famed troublemaker. But still he likes her brave blue eyes and crazy white curls. He knows she's trying to act normal. He knows she's a little bit scared. She's still a bit breathless but seems to be unharmed. Some say she's crazy but he doesn't think so. She reminds him a bit of his own grandmother, truth be told. He loves his Grandma. Everyone in the family knows he's Grandma's favorite. She's the source of his strength. She's the one who taught him to be honest and brave. He's adopted but she loves him just the same. His skin color is never a barrier. She never ever winces whenever he shows her his new tattoo.

He has the same tattoo as David Beckham, as a matter of fact. "Life and death are determined by fate; rank and riches decreed by Heaven." says the old Chinese proverb. Grandma(as well as everyone in his family and any of their neighbors)doesn't understand a word in Chinese but she loves his tattoo. He has a feelings that this little old lady will like it, too. He closes the passenger seat door after helping Mrs. Mazur fastening her seatbelt. She has enough fun today. He'll give her a ride home. Her hands are still shaking, he has noticed. Maybe he can stop on the way and buy her a cup of hot cocoa. A couple chocolate chip cookies, too, will help.

He walks around to the driver's door, gets in, and starts the powerful engine. He ignores the excited bystanders. He pays the passed-out cop no heed. He's glad he happened to be around when an apparently agitated Joe Morelli suddenly froze, jerked, twitched, and collapsed onto the pavement. He's glad he was right there to catch Mrs. Mazur in his arms as she tripped and almost fell. His friends and colleagues call him Zero because he has absolutely no patience and no love for stupid people and stuff. Zero, zip, zilch, nada, nunca, none. Whatever—alright, he has secured the taser—Mrs. Mazur did to Joe Morelli, she did it for a good reason, he's sure of that.

And he never ever likes the arrogant, self-righteous, hairy cop.

**~END OF TATT TWELVE: AN OLD CHINESE SAYING~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Here's the link to Beck's tattoo:
> 
> http://papuatattoo.com/celebrities/david-beckhams-chinese-tattoo/
> 
> http://www.scmp.com/news/china/article/1200054/david-beckhams-chinese-tattoo-inspires-amusing-photoshop-fakes


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Dust in the Wind by Kansas

**Luna Tu**

Helen hangs up the phone and places a hand over her eyes. He knows she's upset. What is it this time? Blown up car? Burned down house? A dead body in the truck? Or—Nope. He doesn't really want to know. It's a hot summer day. He just wants to relax and have a little peace and quiet. He's never a greedy man. He has given up asking why a long long time ago. Right now at this moment all he wants is to enjoy the afternoon baseball game and the ice-cold beer in his hand. Mariano Rivera is going to retire after this season. Who will be the Yankees' new closer? And can somebody please explain to him what the Hell is so wrong with A-Rod? Geez.

The phone rings again. Helen unplugs The landline and turns off her cell phone. He tries to concentrate on the game but fails. It's tough to have a daughter like Stephanie. The more you forbid her, the more she'll rebel. And it kills you to sit there watching her making the same mistakes over and over and over again. From time to time he feels guilty for not being a better parent. He knows Helen feels the same. But Stephanie has to learn to learn from her own mistakes. That's the only way.

Helen comes to sit by him. He can smell the slight hint of whiskey in her breath. Without a word he takes hold of Helen's hand. She always wants to be perfect. She always has to try her best. She's organized. She's polite. She has the most beautiful blue eyes he has ever seen. He fell in love with her the day they first met. And she loves him the same even though he came back from Vietnam and became a different man. She healed him and made him whole. He still doesn't want to know what happened. But he will hold on to her hand and give her all his attention while she vents.

  
**~END OF TATT THIRTEEN: GOOD MORNING,** **VIETNAM~**  



	14. A FAMILY COURSE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Luna by Alessandro Safina

**Nessun Dorma**

He can't believe the crazy old bitch tasered him.

He waves off the EMT and staggers onto his feet. He decides not to dust his jeans in public. His head is throbbing. His whole body is hurting. He's aware of people watching him. He isn't deaf. He can hear the brave whispers and the suppressed laughter. He can feel his anger rising. Maybe he should press charges and have Edna Mazur arrested. She's not going to become his grandmother-in-law any time soon, it seems.

He has no idea what the fuck is so wrong with Stephanie. One day she lets him look down her shirt at her cleavage; the other day she slaps his hand off, stomps away, and starts playing hide and seek. She's been staying with Ranger for the better part of last week. He's thought about stopped calling her. He doesn't know why he still bother to care. Because her smile is pretty? Because the way she walks is very sexy? Because he happens to like the color of her bright clear eyes? Or is it simply because of an old habit that refuses to die?

He has no answer. He has no clue. He can't believe he had a fight with an old woman just because he didn't like the way she talked to people about Ranger and Stephanie. Like they are everyone's favorite couple. Like they are a match made in Heaven. Like they are meant for each other. He hates the way Ranger looks at Stephanie and calls her babe. He hates the not so well hidden emotions in Stephanie's eyes when she knows Ranger is near. He hates himself for feeling jealous. He hates himself for keeping his silence and acting like it's nothing. He hates himself for knowing that sooner or later he's going to lose Stephanie. He hates himself for not being able to be completely honest with Stephanie.

He's a Morelli. He has a scar in his brow. He knows how to fight in bars. He wants to settle down and get married because his mother keeps telling him it's time to start his own family. He wants to make his Grandma happy. He wants to prove to the world he's a different Morelli. He's a Morelli. He's the second son of the cursed family. His elder brother is a cheater. His uncles and cousins beat their wives and kids when coming home drunk and beg for mercy the next morning. A part of him will always loves Terry. A part of him will always be afraid that one day he will be like his daddy. Handsome. Charming. Funny. Loving. Brutal. Drunk. He looks into the mirror and sees the same anger every morning. There were times when he wanted to clench his fists and smack the crap out of an uncooperative suspect. There were times when he wanted to raise his hand and slap Stephanie. The urge. The impulse. The desire. The longing. The thrill. That's why he lost his temper and shouted at Mrs. Mazur. That's why the trembling old woman took her concealed weapon out of her purse and tasered him.

He runs a hand through his hair. He fishes his car key out of his pocket. No need to call Stephanie. She's not answering. Should he press charges and have Grandma Mazur arrested? Maybe that will make Stephanie come out of hiding and talk to him. Should he get her a diamond ring? Should he get down on one knee and pop the question when everyone is looking? She won't be able to say no in front of so many people.

And the whole world and their dogs know Ranger doesn't do relationship.

**~END OF TATT FOURTEEN: A FAMILY COURSE**


	15. BLUE BLOOD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Easy Lover by Phil Collins and Philip Bailey

**Summer of '69**

****

"Don't be an ass, Morelli." Carl Costanza says with the usual smile on his face.

He was born and raised in this city. He has a lot of friends. He knows all the unwritten rules. He's never an overly ambitious man. He was a mediocre student. He is a good son, a good brother, a decent husband, and a great dad. Some say he looks a little like Robert De Niro. Some say he looks a little like Tony DiNozzo. His wife Linda once told him she fell in love with him because of his wicked sense of humor. But he did look very cute in his uniform the day he pulled her over and gave her a ticket, she later admitted. Carl wasn't smart enough to start his own company and be as rich and famous as Bill Gates or Steve Jobs. He wasn't patriotic enough to join the military, either. He followed his father's footstep and became a police officer, and he takes his job seriously. Sometimes he will cut people some slacks. Sometimes he wishes he could do more for the poor bastards. Everyone has a story to tell. Some people are just unlucky. Most of the time he just wants to live and let live. But he always pays his taxes, and occasionally he'll get himself in trouble, gladly, helping a friend in need. Carl casts another longing look at the shining black Porsche 911 Turbo, and calmly turns to face the silent seething police detective. The relief on Stephanie's face is apparent. The anger in Joe Morelli's eyes is too obvious. An unhappy, jealous ex-boyfriend abuses his power seeking a little revenge. How cliché.

"I can put in a few good words for you if you really want to transfer to Traffic." Carl adds helpfully.

He doesn't really want to know what happened between Morelli and Stephanie. He, as well as the rest of the world and their cats and dogs, is tired of their on-and-off relationship. He has heard rumours about Ranger and Stephanie. He has also heard stories about Morelli and other women. He chose to remain silent because he didn't want to be caught in between. But it's such a beautiful day. The sky is so blue and the breeze is very refreshing. And the Yankees has just won another game. Carl had been in a very good mood until he witnessed everything . He knew it was time to step up the plate and make some noise. So he turned his patrol car around and sounded the siren. So he pulled up behind Morelli's navy blue SUV and put on his game face. He knows people are watching. He's aware of the possible consequences. But what the Hell. Bitter, furious cops like Joe Morelli are the reason why nice decent police officers can't have good things.

Carl Costanza stares into Joe Morelli's eyes for a long uncomfortable minute. "You can go now, Stephanie." He says pleasantly without averting his calm composed eyes. He can literally taste the tension in the air as Stephanie drives away in Ranger's car, but he doesn't give a damn. He is fed up with child abuse and domestic violence. He is fed up with drug war, prostitution,and poverty. He is fed up with animal cruelty. He is fed up with police brutality. He is fed up with hypocrisy. He is fed up with wars, stupid people, and meaningless things. He took the oath to serve and protect. He's always ready to fight and to serve. He has faced not-so-dangerous criminals and would-be psychopath. He has faced drunk parents and jealous spouses. He knows how to deal with bullies.

And this time, he wants love to win.

**~END OF TATT FIFTEEN: BLUE BLOOD~**


	16. VALAR MORGHULIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Making Love Out Of Nothing At All by Air Supply

**A Dance with Dragons**

****** **

The tattoo artist shaves the drunken man. The tattoo artist remains focused. The tattoo artist works in silence. The tattoo artist's hand never shakes. He likes the bright blue color. He likes the lines and the structure of the picture in his head. This is not the first time he worked on a hairy man. The blood mixes with the ink. He changes to another color. He works fast. He works with confidence. The drunken man starts to snore. The tattoo artist stops the needle. He always has them pay in advance. The sleeping customer will have no reason to regret. A tattoo this size costs a lot and will hurt more than a little. He wipes the hairless butt cheek clean and admires his work. The design is vivid and beautiful. A lonely man on the Iron Throne. Not the rightful king. Not the cynical jester. Eddard Stark. Lord of the North. Noble heart. Tragic ending. The tattoo artist loves the books, and he likes the TV series, too. He stands up and goes find the drunken man's sober friends. They are all police detectives. The tattoo artist is an honest man.

Joe Morelli has a new tattoo and a broken heart.

**~END OF TATT SIXTEEN: VALAR MORGHULIS~**


	17. OPERATION BAGHDAD PUPS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Domino Dancing by Pet Shop Boys

**We Are Legion**

****** **

Graphics. Letters. Numbers. Stories. Memories. Lessons. Love, and pain. Blue. Black. Red. Green. Colors of every shade. Silent. Muscular. Fit. Healthy. Laughing. Joking. Thinking. Dreaming. Friends. Brothers in arms. Low fat sandwiches. Salads. Vegetable sticks. Guns. Knives. Tattoos. Smooth skin. Scars. Career choice. Shady past. Every day is another day. Every night is quiet and new and ordinary and strange. He finishes his workout and heads out of the gym. He likes his new life. He likes his new nickname. He still dreams of the dogs and cats he left behind in Iraq. Who's feeding them right now? Or do they have to fend for themselves? He should have done something. He needs to do something. He has to do something before his guilt slowly kills him from the inside. He will try his best. He's willing to pay any price. They are trapped inside a world of violence and chaos. And he's here, making good money and new friends, eating fruit salad. He feels a lump in his throat. He feels ashamed of himself. They call him Woody because he's numb. And today, he's going to ask Ranger for help.

He's not exactly a big fan of Miss Plum. It's her life. He doesn't get to judge. He badly wanted to shake some sense into her head the third time he followed his order and helped her clean up the mess. The blown-up cars reminded him too much of the days he still tries to forget. He will probably never understand what Ranger sees in her. But he's glad she's no longer with the cop. He's glad she's not that dumb. Sometimes she reminds him of his mother and his step-dad: too afraid, too busy, too lazy, too drunk to commit totally; too greedy, too needy, too blind to say goodbye. Forever trapped in their nice, polite little town. Living a life full of regrets and lies. Like his sister and her cheating scumbag of a husband. Like the men and women who grew up with him. Like those who stay at the same place for their whole life while crying for their lost dreams. He has to do something, anything, everything, to help the cats and dogs he was forced to leave at the small Iraqi town. Maybe it's too late now, but still he has to try. Or he will never be able to forgive and live with himself. He showers, changes, and knocks on Ranger's office door. They call him Woody because he's as lifeless as a pull-string cowboy doll. He almost—ALMOST—jumps in joy when Ranger gives him a small nod. He tries to say something, anything to his silent boss. He ends up bursting into tears.

The wounds inside start to heal.

**~END OF TATT SEVENTEEN:OPERATION BAGHDAD PUPS~**


	18. MERCHANT OF VENICE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Money Money Money by Abba

**A Fool and His Gold**

He watches them with eyes as cold as ice and steel. His smile twists into a joyless sneer. He's a mercenary. A soldier of fortune. A gun for hire. He's an opportunist. A man of his own. An ex-Ranger. He has built a new lifestyle. He uses a different nickname here. He heard Manoso is doing well. They never saw eye to eye. They chose similar paths. Time has changed a lot. The resentment, however, stays the same. He can recognize a fool when he sees one. It's a knack. He feels an urge to laugh out loud. So they pulled a lot of strings and, no doubt, stepped on a lot of toes and nerves. So they traveled halfway around the fucked-up world to save a bunch of dogs and cats. So they want to play hero amid debris, destruction, car bombs and despair under the blazing sun. Be my guest, gentlemen. He gives a small nod to the local man he hires.

The translator, the guide. the bridge, the medium. The quiet, lucky, and probably hurt and angry bearded bastard. His once beautiful, powerful country, now a sad barren Hell. Democracy, freedom, and love. The price of war and oil. Now the same motherfucking assholes are back for their cats and dogs. Soon the greedy infertile couples will come to snatch little boys and girls. But maybe Ishmael will simply shrug his thin shoulders and sing a sad French song while remembering the days he spent in Paris as a young ambitious student. C'est la vie, Monsieur. Ishmael, a father of three, has always been a peaceful man.

"Enjoy. Have fun." Jonathan Swiss doesn't bother to offer his hand to Ranger as he looks straight into those almost black dark brown eyes. Everything is arranged: transportation, quarantine, backup plans, temporary foster homes and vets. He charges high and his service is impeccable. Ranger and his men will ride out in armoured trucks, armed with gloves, leashes, cages, first-aid kits, and guns. Ishmael and several other locals will help them with the task. And maybe the silent guy with short sandy hair will finally manage to find peace in his battle with PTSD, and the strength to live. The corner of Jonathan Swiss's lip twitches as he calls out after Ranger:

"Don't get killed."

**~END OF TATT EIGHTEEN: MERCHANT OF VENICE~**


	19. DREAMERS, ONLY DREAMERS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: I'm Walking in the Air from The Snowman

**Shall We Not Bleed?**

They need a closure. That's why they are here.

Everything seems familiar. Nothing feels the same. The cold stares from tired and angry-looking bearded men. The blank curiosity on young boys' faces. Most of the cats can't be found. Some of the dogs are already dead. Figures. It's been almost two years. All is cruel in loss and war. They never plan to make excuses. They were young and passionate and innocent and maybe even foolish. They followed the calling. They didn't stop to think. They tried—as they later learned—not to think. But still they felt, they sensed, they witnessed. And everything single one of them was scarred by what they experienced. Some of them became cynical. Some of them had trust issues. Some of them said not a word. Some of them just wanted to live. They were just a tiny part of this indifferent world.

They saw the tears in Woody's eyes when he found his favorite cat. They couldn't save themselves. They couldn't save them all. They feel their hearts beating under their state of the art bullet proof vests. They have to try. They have to give it a chance. They have to take the risk. They have to find something. A cat. A dog. A promise. A dream. A wish. An answer. They have to find peace. They have to pull themselves back together. They have to look back for one last time. They have to move on. They have to know that they cared, they always cared. They have to know that they tried their best even though things didn't end up well. They have to stand on the ground, breathing in the air. They have to say goodbye and "I'm sorry" to the lonely ghosts. They will be heading home tomorrow.

They are not whom they once were.

**~END OF TATT NINETEEN: DREAMERS, ONLY DREAMERS~**


	20. QUE SREA, SERA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac

**Mother**

She opens the door of the kitchen cabinet and finds the familiar bottle. Whiskey. Slowly she takes a sip. The well-hidden source of all her will and power. The secret weapon that enables her to stand tall and deal with the mayhem called everyday life. With a smile on her face. And her chin held high. Yes, she does have her pride. The burning warmth spreads from her throat through her whole body. She now has the ability to speak.

_No one really knows me._

She turns on the coffee maker and searches the refrigerator. Homemade breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She's good at these things. Shopping. Laundry. Ironing. Washing the dishes. Listening to the silence, and the sound of the TV. She hasn't read a book in ages. What was the last book she read? A best selling fiction? A paperback novel? A cookbook by a famous chef? She doesn't remember. She vaguely remembers. She doesn't care if she remembers. She's a mother, a wife, a daughter, a grandmother. She has her duties. She is always busy. Her days are fulfilled. She was beautiful when she got married. Now she has gotten used to Frank's snoring. God. Her mother-in-law was such a bitch. She opens the door of the kitchen, grabs the bottle, and takes another sip. It's barely eight o'clock in the morning. That's how she deals with the ups and downs in life and all those disappointments. She turns on the stove and start making pancakes. Upstairs the bathroom door slams closed. Her mother won again. She can hear Frank's cursing. She tries her best not to think of the tangled relationship between Joe Morelli, Ranger, and her younger daughter Stephanie. She pours herself a cup of coffee, and decides to make herself a grilled cheese sandwich tomorrow morning. She hates feeling melancholy.

_Whiskey doesn't ask silly questions._

**~END OF TATT TWENTY:QUE SREA, SERA~**

 


	21. COME TO THE DARK SIDE, BABE. WE HAVE COOKIES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Some Bodies Gonna Get It by Three 6 Mafia

**Heat**

 

He heard they were back. The tall, dark, silent, efficient men clad all in black. He has no idea why they left. He has no idea where they went. All he knows is that there will always be bastards and there will always be jerks. He sometimes wonders if he'll enjoy being one of them. Nah. He's one of the good guys now and, luckily, he still has his charm. The dark expressive eyes. The lean, mean body. The lazy intriguing grin. The sexy foreboding frown. He can tell by the way men and women talk and look at him. He wanted to kill himself the day he woke up late in the afternoon and found his new tattoo while taking a shower. He couldn't believe he had sunk so low. He didn't want to admit Stephanie had hurt him this deep. The dead man's sad blank face made him feel like a loser. He's never interested in HBO's original series or fantasy fictions. All he demanded was an explanation.  _Game of Thrones_? All he needs is an answer. And the tattoo hurt like Hell.

He stands up from his desk and goes down the corridor. He takes a right turn and almost comes face to face with the man he most—and least—wants to see. Their eyes meet for a fraction of a forever moment. The new man in Stephanie's life. The man who is everything he's not. The man he personally dislikes but does not actually hate. Past. Present. Future. It was tense. He thinks of the joke. He lets out a breath, gives his head a small nod, and walks away. He didn't bother to say a thing. What's the point? No big deal. Let go. Move on. Be smart. Tomorrow will be another day. Smile.

The hair on his shaven butt cheek has started to grow back.

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-ONE: COME TO THE DARK SIDE, BABE. WE HAVE COOKIES~**

 


	22. COME TO THE DARK SIDE. WE HAVE CHEESEBURGERS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: We Will We Will Rock You by Queen

**Oh My Luve's Like A Red Red Rose**

Val has lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make her smile. Maybe he should buy her something on the way back.

It's tough being a son, a husband, a lawyer, and a stepfather. Some mornings he wakes up feeling dizzy. Some evenings, when he comes home, after another empty day at work, he feels the familiar dread. He knows he's not good enough. He knows he's not tall enough. He knows Val was in a hurry to settle down. She used to be the prom queen. And he has never been exactly smart. That's why his mother looked at him and sighed. That's why some people still laugh at his back. But it's okay. He thinks he's happy. He believes he's happy. He's a daddy now. He's the good man with the big heart. He's Uncle Albert. He totally understands why Stephanie introduced him to Val. He has already forgive Morelli for pointing a gun at his head. He becomes over-talkative whenever he's too nervous. A little outside help is always welcome. But he will always remember the way Morelli talked to him. The easy, sexy, lazy hint of a smile. The matter-of-factly and casual tone. The not-so-well-hidden mixture of disdain, disrespect, ridicule, and contempt. The way a wolf hound looks down at a pug. What can he say? He's a Kloughn. Albert the Clown. The best ways to survive bullying. Smile and laugh with them. Hold no grudges. Pretend nothing has ever happened. Act normal. Cry when absolutely alone. Wash your face before coming down to dinner. Your parents had enough to worry about. Your teachers always had other priorities. Know thyself. Know thy place. Know the hierarchy.

He's now a dutiful provider for his family. He helps with the girls' homework. He helps with the dishes. He helps with the diapers. He stops his car in front of a flower shop. His mother has finally opened her heart and accepted Val, Angie, and Mary Alice. It took a really long while, but all his efforts were worth it. His heart jumps whenever Val smiles, kisses him on the cheek, or grasps hold of his hand. Yep, he's madly in love. And now he's going to buy his lovely plus size wife a dozen of roses. He's extremely happy Stephanie has dumped Joe Morelli.

Ranger never laughs at him.

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-TWO: COME TO THE DARK SIDE. WE HAVE CHEESEBURGERS~**


	23. NAMELESS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Send Me An Angel by Real Life

**I Can Has A Cheeseburger?**

He's just not an animal person.

He keeps his mouth shut and does his job. He's a trained professional. He respects his boss's decisions. He doesn't ask stupid questions. The pay is good. Great insurance and benefits. Just the kind of stability he wants and needs. Less sand. Less dangerous here. Bad air. Different enemies and noises. Selfish beasts. Stupid people. A portion of his heart has forever turned cold. Or maybe he was born cold. A veteran. A retired soldier. A middle son. An indifferent sibling. Someone who has become detached to his whole family. Someone who has no fond memories of his hometown. The trick is to leave everything behind. The trick is to start anew, alone, and keep your thoughts and secrets all to yourself. He needs no tattoo to express himself. His soul is already pierced. And, sometimes, he believes Ranger can read his mind.

He stands very straight and stays very quiet during the funeral. He sits with his back against the living room wall of his childhood home. He's surrounded by his family but still he feels bored. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. Uncles. Nephews. Nieces. Aunts. Some are eager and later shocked. Some are anxious and eventually disappointed. Some are happy. Some are smiling. Some consider themselves lucky. He's now the new owner of Grandpa's cheap gold watch but no one wants Grandpa's cat and dog.  _Shelter. Shelter. Shelter._  Silently his blood relatives cast their votes.

So he makes a swift decision and takes them home.

And his eye starts to twitch when Tank squats down and talks to the deaf cat in a creepy sweet tone.

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-THREE: NAMELESS~**


	24. IF I HAD A LITTLE GIRL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~A Holiday Special Chapter Dedicated to Mr. Arkady Petrovich*~

**Monsters**

 

Sometimes he misses his home country.

Nope, he's not lying.

He is still in good condition. He's healthier than a lot of people believe. He's sly, smart, strong and quick. He's merciless when needed. But he's an old man now. He's never ever wanted to have his own family. He was a trained assassin, a loyal killing machine. He's never ever asked unnecessary questions. He has a wicked sense of humour, he's never been overly ambitious, he did whatever he needed to do, and he doesn't believe in nightmares. Most of his old acquaintances are long gone. A lot of his younger colleagues are working for the mob. He has the pleasure to know Vladimir, the new Tsar, personally and that was probably the reason why he decided enough was enough and exiled himself across the ocean. And the ugly poor little dog actually looks quite cute in that pink tutu.

He smiles as the pug turns to give him a reproachful look. He winces and struggles not to cross himself when the wild-haired beautiful little girl starts to sing another Christmas song. He doesn't like or hate Christmas songs, but God, the kid can't sing. They are perfectly safe in the 7th-floor apartment. He will remain alert nonetheless. He's ready to give his life to protect the girl. It's not about the money. It's not about his promise. It's not about his being a professional. All of a sudden he thinks of his mother and the snow-buried town he once called home. He blinks. He picks up the pug. Together the two of them sit on the couch watching the little girl sing and dance. It's 7 days till Christmas. Tonight it's just the three of them. Till Daddy and Mommy get home.

"Bravo." He claps politely when Zoé finally finishes her last song and does a courtesy like a little princess. He looks at her smiling face and then into her expectant eyes. Something tugs at his heart. Something touches his soul. Nope, he never does stupid things, but still he feels a huge smile spread across his face when he hears himself say, "Encore."

Zoé starts singing again. Killer the pug lets out a snort. Outside the window it starts to rain. He mentally rolls his eyes at himself.

_Yeah, I'm heartless like that._

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-FOUR: IF I HAD A LITTLE GIRL~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shelter from the Storm by sweetdreams-sunnymornings. Fanfiction id: 7290944 
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7290944/1/Shelter-from-the-Storm


	25. IF I HAVE A LITTLE BOY

**They Just Fade Away...**

**~A Peek Into The Future~**

He's getting old.

He can feel that in his bones.

The small lines around his eyes, and the tiredness at the end of each day. It's harder to get up at the break of dawn. It has become easier to stare at the computer screen and all of a sudden get lost in his thoughts. His muscles are still there. His stomach is still flat. He's still stronger, tougher, calmer than most of the men. He has yet to find the very first grey hair. But still.

He's both the same and a different man.

And he's getting old.

Like his father and grandfathers. His cousins. His elder brother. His friends. And his father-in-law. He lets out a silent sigh as he watches his wife and twin sons play in the snow. Their cat, a Halloween gift from Tank, comes out of nowhere and starts rubbing itself against his leg. He puts down his coffee mug. He picks up the purring black cat. The house smells of caramel and cinnamon. Stephanie's laughter rings in his ears. They walk under the mistletoe.

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-FIVE: IF I HAVE A LITTLE BOY~**


	26. LOVE IS NEVER HAVING TO SAY YOU'RE SORRY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Walking in the Air from the animated film The Snowman

**Snow Day**

"Dude," Says the nonchalant one-eyed big black cat. "You are supposed to watch over the kid, not drool all over him."

The all black ex-military dog keeps his silence and desperately tries to look cool.

A drop of dog slobber lands on the carpet.

The big badass dog cringes and winces.

The cat rolls his remaining eye.

The little boy giggles.

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-SIX: LOVE IS NEVER HAVING TO SAY YOU'RE SORRY~**


	27. THE WORLD AND THE SEVEN SEAS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: All I Have To Do Is Dream by The Everly Brothers

**The Price Is**

****

He remembers the dreams. The smiling old Russian man. The big dog and the one-eyed cat. The first time he held Julie in his arms, she was so small and soft. When he came back, months later, and held her in his arms, she cried so loud. He was practically a stranger. He was never there. Rachel had her doubts, worries, and fears. He had his wounds. He wasn't surprised when Rachel asked for a divorce. He gave up his paternal rights. He felt calm. It was for the best. They needed someone else. And Ron is a good man. He knew he'd lost something precious. There was no one to be blamed.

He gets out of bed without waking Stephanie. She has unofficially moved in with him. One day she'll feel comfortable enough to give up her apartment. Soon he'll have to make time to consider the change of plans. The price is always wrong. The price is always right. He was being arrogant, selfish, and foolish, and Julie was conceived. Have things changed? Has he changed? He's never actually loved Rachel. But he does love Stephanie. Is love enough? He looks into the mirror and starts shaving. What does Stephanie want? He knows what Stephanie wants. He's thinking about the timing and all the other details. His parents. Her parents. Siblings. Friends. Nosy neighbors. Relatives. Etc.. And living arrangement. The little girl in his dream did look like Julie. The twin boy did look like him. He's pretty sure Grandma Rosa is not a Voodoo witch. But he can't stop thinking about the giggling boy. So tiny. So fragile. So happy. The image of the child's face fills his heart with something. Like the first time he held his first born child. Like the time he stepped into Stephanie's living room and found both her and Julie still alive. He gave up being a father but didn't drop the baby. He got shot but didn't die.

Silently he finishes dressing. Stephanie has taken over his side of the bed. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. Gently he closes the bedroom door. He has an early meeting.

Till death do we part.

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-SEVEN: THE WORLD AND THE SEVEN SEAS~**


	28. NEXT CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Bad Romance by Lady Gaga

**America The Beautiful**

****

He's the newest addition to this company. He feels both young and old. He feels both excited and tired. Patrolling the streets. Properly armed. Healthy food. Gym time. He left a part of himself in the far away land. He left a part of himself behind when he hugged his Dad and Mom goodbye. He's bored. He's restless. He needs the money. To build his dreams? Maybe. To start his own family? Not now. To save for the rainy day? Yep, that's it. Always plan ahead. Always be prepared. Life is full of surprises. Traps. Snares. Accidents. Roadside bombs. You never know. You can't be sure. Luck. Fate. Smart choices. Correct decisions. A good commander. A really good one. And trustworthy friends/colleagues. The kind that will have your back covered. Stability. Security. Soon he will be able to fully settle in and finally calm down. He's now back in his own life. Yep, he can handle that.

He "Wow!" when the car blew up. He "Geez." when Miss Plum escaped without a scratch. He smiled when she wrestled her FTA to the ground. He couldn't help feeling curious. He was—and thankfully still is—too smart to ask stupid questions. The weather was cold and the air was bad. He, somehow, wanted to laugh when he saw the look in the cop's eyes.  _Man, you gotta know when to give up_. She thanked him politely when he offered to give her a ride back. She didn't make fun of his nickname. He liked the brightness of her eyes. She reminded him of the sister he never had.

One day he, too, is going to find someone.

And maybe his soul mate is 5 cats...

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-EIGHT: NEXT CHAPTER~**


	29. MADNESS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Kevorkian by Public Enemy

**This. Is. Sparta!**

He's feeling defiant today. It's his life too. He has a say.

The breeze is chilling but he doesn't bother to button up his jacket. His smile is malicious. He loves this t-shirt. He laughed out loud the moment he saw it on eBay. He knew it would fit his purpose perfectly. And now he'll send his message clear and loud. He can't wait to see the look on Stephanie's face. Hell hath no fury like a man scorned and yeah, this is his little revenge.

Let people whisper behind his back. Let people stare at him. He'll hold his head high everywhere he goes. He'll chew his pizza and doughnuts. He'll gulp down his beer and coffee. He aims to hurt and now he's thirsty for blood. The cute little creature on the front of his t-shirt looks out at the world innocently. The four bold italic capitalized letters shine neon green. He feels like Leonidas. He feels his blood boiling. He's the descendant of proud Roman warriors. He's fed up with the stories about how happy Stephanie is.

She's nothing. She's just like that stupid pig. The pig that knows how to herd the sheep. Silly movie. Make-believe. Pigs are born to be slaughtered. Pigs are born to be eaten. Pigs can't fly. Pigs can't dream. Pigs are all stupid. Pigs are...just pigs.  _You deserve what you deserve, Cupcake. If you believe what he believes._ He's going to have the last laugh. He's going to celebrate his life with a couple grilled cheese and bacon sandwiches.

With sudden gusto he pushes open the door. Warm air breathes into his face. The laughter and conversation cease. He looks around. He searches for his targets. He's happily single and movie star handsome. He's off duty but he's still armed. He has so much to prove. He has so much to say. He's ex-military, too. For 4 years he loyally served his country. He's never a big fan of the Yankees. He's never a fan of the Knicks. Ah, there she is. He puts on a friendly grin. He staggers a little bit. Sitting around the table they used to share. Ranger and his Babe. Mercenary and pig.

"Go home, Joe." Strong hands grab hold of his shoulders. Familiar voices sound in his ears. "You're drunk. Don't make a scene."

He stares blankly at his brother-in-law and cousin. He slowly blinks.

He never gets to his destination.

They never give him a chance to resist.

**~END OF TATT TWENTY-NINE: MADNESS~**


	30. YORICK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Mrs. Robinson by Simon & Garfunkel

**Where Have You Gone, Joe DiMaggio?**

"Are you mocking me, Morelli?" Big Dog grabbed the front of his t-shirt and slammed him against the bathroom wall.

"Because if you are," Big Dog continues in a low soft voice. His Bronx accent thick and dense. His blue eyes fierce and cold. "I have no problem beating the shit out of you whatever the consequence and make you regret the day you were born."

Tiny drops of spittle land on Joe Morelli's face. He's stunned by the malice on Big Dog's wide square face. The world around the has become very quiet and now, all of a sudden, he finds it hard to breathe. It's such a beautiful Wednesday. He's still wearing the same t-shirt. He still wants his justice. He still wants his revenge. He still wants to laugh like the Riders of Rohan when he sees the look on Stephanie's face. However, Morelli finally remembers, Big Dog, as well as his father, grandfather, and every family member, is a devout Yankees fan.

Desperately Morelli tries to explain. He, too, loves baseball. He, too, respects the home-run legend. But the only sound he manages to make is a breathless, pathetic squeak.

"Don't let me see you walking around with that stupid t-shirt again." Big Dog hisses like a king cobra.

He can only nod.

****~END OF**  TATT THIRTY: YORICK~**


	31. IT'S YOU I'M FIGHTING FOR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Ordinary Love by U2

**Frozen**

The snow has returned. She finishes planning next week's menu as the industrial washing machines and dryers purr. She likes her job a lot and she enjoys surprising the men with different kinds of sauces. Spicy. Exotic. Rich. Light. Yep, she's a great cook. Her sandwiches are always healthy, tasty, and full of flavors. Her sandwiches are never dull.

All of them are young enough to be her son.

She'll never forget the day her only child came home in a casket.

She remained calm through the funeral.

With a small nod she accepted the job offer.

She hugged Louis tight the night he woke up in the middle of the night and let out heart-rending sobs.

They had lost all they had.

Slowly. Piece by piece. A smile. A thank you. A sincere praise. A dreamy moan. They started rebuilding their universe and world. They are now helping the company their son dreamed to build. The machines stop. The sheets are as white and soft as the snow. Soon spring will be here.

She irons out her sorrows.

**~END OF TATT THIRTY-ONE: IT'S YOU I'M FIGHTING FOR~**


	32. ALL THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: The Ring Goes South from The Lord of the Rings

**Heat**

****

He is a wanderer.

He has just turned down the job offer.

He needs time to be alone.

He needs to gaze into the open fields.

He needs to ignore the voices.

No, he's not well.

He can function like everyone else.

But deep down somewhere, a screw is loose. Something has fallen apart. Something is broken. Maybe forever.

How? When? Why? He's focused on the fact. He's not interested in the answers.

He's not a hero.

He's in search of his soul.

He likes to walk. Slowly. Leisurely. Aimlessly.

He's not going anywhere particularly.

He walks past the navy blue SUV. He doesn't spare the tall hairy man a second glance.

The smell of hot gooey pizza. The smell of sand. Of death. And of the vast voidness.

He keeps on walking.

He's a stranger in this city. He ignores his memories.

He loves to read.

He's not yet 40. He feels like he's been living for an eternity.

Like butter.

Spread too thin.

With, or without, the evil enchanted ring.

The woman he met in the elevator on the way down to the lobby. Blue eyes. wild hair. He sensed her curiosity. He returned her smile.

He didn't say anything.

She's Ranger's responsibility.

Their story is complicated.

Too complicate for a simple man like him.

He hears the sea calling.

He is a wanderer.

"One day." He promises himself quietly. One day.

Someday?

Maybe.

**~END OF TATT **THIRTY-TWO** : ALL THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD~**


	33. ALL WHO WANDER ARE NOT LOST

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~A Spring Day Special Chapter Dedicated to Mr. Anthonio Stewart*~

**Love Is Love Is Everything You Do**

****** **

Today he's going to cut his hair.

For a while he won't be looking like a surfer. Nah. He's not going to miss his golden dreadlocks.

He has walked through fire and ice. He's deeply in love with someone. Someone who can't love him back without reservation. He's enchanted by the sad little truth. A small portion of him is addicted to the pain. Has he ever tasted the bitterness of jealousy? He grew up too soon and too early.

The naked woman in the bed whispers something in her sleep. Last night under the light she looked sexy and attractive. She's a very good dancer. She indeed is very pretty. He liked the way she traced a finger along his tattoo.

"Are you a Samoan warrior?" He likes the laughter in her voice.

He turns to face the sea and breathes in the ocean breeze.

The cloudless sky reminds him of Stephanie.

**~END OF TATT **THIRTY-THREE** : ALL WHO WANDER ARE NOT LOST~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mercenaries R Us by sweetdreams-sunnymornings. Fanfiction id: 7705107


	34. WHERE IS ALL YOU ANGELS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Theme song: The Chauffeur by Duran Duran~

**Blue Silver**

He's always in need of something new. A new car. A new girl. A new tattoo.

He's always after something new. A new goal. A new life. A new place to hide.

And now, he is tired. The beer bottle in his hand weighs him down. The baseball game is boring. The TV sounds empty. His stomach is full of cheese flavored chips. He's home for the holiday weekend. He's surrounded by families and friends. His parents are smiling. His siblings are chatting. They have adopted a new family dog, a big shy mutt. They take great care of the foster kittens. He has a loving family. His sister is going to get married. He will be back for her wedding. Something inside him is missing. He's not the child he used to be. He's not as happy. He has grown up. Fully grown up. He feels older than his father is. He feels like an alien among normal people. He have seen things. He have done things. Sometimes he looks into the mirror and and expects to see a monster. Sometimes he looks into the mirror and has to turn his eyes away from the lingering sadness. He's a man. He's a son. He's a brother. He's not a hero. He's a witness. He is one of the casualties.

His mother made his favorite cupcakes. Chocolate cheese. Apple butter vanilla. Lemon blueberry. Cinnamon cream. He puts down the beer, choose one cupcake, and takes a bite. The summer day when he was 6. The summer day when they lost their family cat. The summer day when his mother hugged him very tight. The summer day when he first learned about death. He takes a deep breath. He keeps on chewing. He's part of this family. His mother comes over and gives him a kiss on his cheek. No one else takes notice. He knows she's happy he's home. He knows she's worried about him. Nothing ever lasts. Some things never change. He won't tell her everything is going to be OK.

He'll try his best.

**~END OF TATT **THIRTY-FOUR** : WHERE IS ALL YOU ANGELS~**


	35. WE DON'T NEED TO KNOW THE WAY HOME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~A SUMMER IS HERE SPECIAL CHAPTER~

**We Don't Need Another Hero**

They don't know whom to trust and the leads lead to nowhere.

The clock keeps ticking.

They need to find the girls.

The African sun frowns down on everyone. The sleeping leopards. The lonely lions and cheetahs. The elephants, rhinos, and zebras. The blank faced men. Local politics. Religious fanatics. Human rights. International outrage. They walk straight into this tangled web. Sooner or later they will find the way. The clock keeps ticking. Will it be too late?

He gazes into the wilderness and thinks of the pictures. The pictures of the abducted girls. He thinks of all the numb expressionless faces. He thinks of his daughter. He thinks of the pain, the chaos, and all the worries. One of his men calls out to him.

Tonight they'll be on the move. Following yet another lead. Find the girls. Find the mad man.

It's not about money.

He's a mercenary.

**~END OF TATT **THIRTY-FIVE** : WE DON'T NEED TO KNOW THE WAY HOME~**


	36. A FOOL OR A KING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song:Give It Up by KC & The Sunshine Band

**Na, Na, Na, Na, Na, Na, Na, Na, Na**

Hurrah, it's his day off. He lies in the bed and smiles. It's going to be a beautiful Sunday. He smells coffee and pancakes. He hears the kids and the dog. He loves his wife very much. He has her name tattooed on his arm in beautiful letters. Sometimes when he patrols the streets, the dull fear will come back. He got shot once and he doesn't want it to happen again. Too bad it's not up to him. He can only prepare as best as he can. Shit happens, sometimes, no matter what. He's not sure if he really wants to know if there's life after death. He knows he'd hate to leave his family behind. In a few years his eldest child will grow up and leave home for college. In a few years he will wake up to find wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. In a few years their dear old dog will become a fond memory.

He laughs out softly.

It's such a peaceful morning, and here he is, thinking about life's inevitables. His parents are both in good health. His children are happy, cute, and kind. So far his life has been relatively smooth. He always tries his best to stay calm and carry on when bad things happen. He has witnessed too much. He wants to kiss his wife whenever she whines about something. He wants to cross himself and thank God every time Stephanie's car blows up.

He sits up, stretches, and yawns. He's taking the whole family out for lunch. Every man must die. He will enjoy his shower and breakfast. He will hug and kiss his children, dog, and wife.

He's going to watch some baseball tonight.

**~END OF TATT **THIRTY-SIX** : A FOOL OR A KING~**


	37. EVEN DOVES HAVE PRIDE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: When Doves Cry by Prince

**Don't Don't Cry**

He's not an honest man. He enjoys all the guilty sins. Yeah, he knows he's a slimeball and he's probably a bit abnormal. But he's also smart. And hey, he just wants to survive.

Bigger kids bullied him. Popular kids laughed at him. The good teachers ignored him. His friends were just like him. People made fun of his name.

He learned not to weep. His father wasn't always around. His mother and grandmother love him fiercely.

He's scared shitless of his father-in-law.

Does he really love his wife? Does she truly love him back?

He has no idea. He's not interested in stupid questions. Even if they are not meaningless. Maybe that's the reason why they both don't want kids.

She's never pretty. He's far from handsome. He constantly cheats on her. She tolerates him. He fucked up big time. She bailed him out.

Maybe that is love.

He widens his eyes. Suddenly his serene office feels like a prison cell. Goosebumps start to raise on his skin. Love?

He jumps out of his chair. He grabs his jacket and keys. He needs to get out of this building. He needs some room to breathe.

Love?

She demands a diamond ring this coming anniversary. A Tiffany.

Yeeeeesh.

**~END OF TATT **THIRTY-SEVEN** : EVEN DOVES HAVE PRIDE~**


	38. ONLY THE DEAD. DEAD. DEAD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Single Ladies by Beyoncé

**The End Of War**

 

All the efforts are now wasted. All the sacrifices. All the years. And the tolls.

The World is a troubled place and he feels like laughing. It's just another summer day. He walks the fine line between black and white. He has seen, and tasted, all the shades of the different grays. He woke up beside her warm body this morning. When he closed the door silently and head downstairs, she was still fast asleep. General, ordinary, small happiness. A man has needs and, after all, he's not that special.

A war based on lies. A series of shameful mistakes. The secret waiting list of a Phoenix VA hospital. Someone died. Someone lost a couple limbs. Someone suffered lifelong trauma. Someone walk away from murder. Someone got richer. The way Morelli and some other people always look at him. He knows he's one crazy bastard. And now he has become cynical. He resents the taste of the bitter disappointment. He cannot change the whole world. He can't save them all. Even Batman has failed.

He steps out of his car and calmly assesses the scene in front of him. No one died. Nothing exploded. She turns to him with quivering lips. Wide eyes. Wild curls. No apparent bruise nor wound. The man she's been after is facedown on the sidewalk. Right next to the fabulous Mr. Joe Morelli. He's not sure if he really wants to know what happened. "Babe," He says.

"It wasn't my fault!"

He wraps her in his arms and kisses her on the top of her head. He can't help smiling.  _Of course._

**~END OF TATT THIRTY-EIGHT:ONLY THE DEAD. DEAD. DEAD~**


	39. MY CIRCUS. MY MONKEYS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Livin' La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

**Muß I Denn, Muß I Denn  
**

He concentrates on the computer screen. In 15 minutes he's going to grab himself a sandwich. Along with a cup of vegetable sticks. His parents have finally divorced. His Grandma has Alzheimer's. He knows how to take care of himself. Every day he wakes up feeling a deep sadness. Every night he falls asleep when his head touches the pillow. Sometimes he remembers his dreams. Sometimes he doesn't bother to try to forget his nightmares. Yes, he has done terrible things. And that's why he cut off all the ties. He's in exile. He has been wandering for a while. And he doesn't plan to stop.

There was nothing he could do. He'd wanted to vomit so suddenly when people around him started to smile. They chatted so happily as if nothing had happened. They smiled so brightly as if no one had died. The Lives of the innocent. Women. Children. He was the murderer. He watched the news clips on TV. He looked down at his hands. There was no blood. His hands were warm and steady. At that exact moment he knew he had to leave. He had to run away from this collective craziness. The collective loyalty was choking him. He had his fill of this guilt. He had no answer. He had tears.

He stares at the computer screen. He has sharp business instincts. He is a man of efficiency and he has great work ethic. He doesn't want to waste a single minute. He sits by the river of life and death. He is haunted by the ghosts from his past. It's lunch time. He gets up from his desk. He goes upstairs to the 5th floor office. He placed the file folders in a neat pile. He chooses a healthy delicious sandwich. He pours himself a mug of coffee. The tattoo on his arm is the number of the dead. The scar on his soul will never heal. Only a few of his families and friends understand. One day, he bites into the carrot. One day.

_Our freedom is incomplete._

**~END OF TATT THIRTY-NINE: MY CIRCUS. MY MONKEYS~**


	40. ISLAND IN THE STREAM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song: Money for Nothing by Dire Straits

**MEDITATION XVII**

Of course he's not a  _patriot_.

Of course he once had dreams. Unrealistic dreams.

He wanted to become a pro-sport superstar. He wanted to retire at an early age. With a strong but battered body. With a pretty sexy wife. With a lot of money. But things didn't work out. For he was never that talented. And he was never into sports anyways. Chasing, fighting, after a ball. What's the point? He wonders why he joined the Army. To escape, maybe? His hometown was suffocating him. One look at his parents and he decided he never wanted to have any children or get married. He had no aims, no goals. He tried not to snort at some of the orders. He pulled the trigger. He ran for cover. He gazed up at the cloudless sky. He cursed the dry, scorching wind. He got injured and he managed to survive. He met Ranger at the hospital in Germany. They both wanted to take a ride on the Autobahn. In a fancy car. With the car windows down. Into the rising sun.

Freedom.

They both love, and need, freedom.

He can't say he loves his job. He keeps his life to himself. Sometimes he dates. Sometimes he gets laid. He likes to read. He knows how to cook. And right now he's a security specialist. A good one. A very good one. The last time he went back to visit his family, he punched his newest brother-in-law in the face. Yes, he had wanted to slap his sister. How could you dump your son's cat at the shelter just because your new husband doesn't like cats? He couldn't save the boy. He couldn't save the cat. He's been angry with himself. He feels ashamed. He feels tired. He can't forget look in his nephew's eyes.

"Wanna see the photos of my cats?" He almost jumps when Tank suddenly asks.

Sure. Why not?

**~END OF TATT FORTY: ISLAND IN THE STREAM~**


End file.
